Idiot Bunch

I don’t watch that much television.  Well, I used to love – and I’m using love loosely here – WB11 for its no-nonsense programming.  Then again, I’m using no-nonsense loosely, too, only because I was, one, partial to its local news, me being a not-so-native New Yorker, and, two, because I was partial to Jim Watkins. 

When WB11 reformatted and changed its name to CW11, and brought in shows like America’s Next Top Model and other crap, I lost interest entirely.  America’s Next Top Model my ass!  Because really who has become a top model from this over the top modeling show? ANTM is nothing but a mindless showcase of ugly ducklings with delusion of being beautiful swans on one hand, and a well-orchestrated scheme to perpetuate Tyra’s delusion as still one of the world supermodels and to inflate her ego whose size is surpassed only by her behemoth breasts and behind.  Meanwhile, her bank account is fast getting fat.

Don’t even get me started on American Idol.  What’s with this morbid fascination with mediocrity anyway?  That home viewers – obviously the same bunch of freaks who couldn’t carry a tune but auditioned anyway - decide which contestant stays and which goes is a mistake at the outset.  You throw in a Dawg and a bitch, and you have a recipe for disaster.  Let Simon and his humour be.  He’s right; he’s British.

Then there’s…  Never mind.  The list runs the gutter, er, gamut. 

It used to be called an idiot box, that flickering piece of glass.  While technology advanced, shows nosedived.  Audience ohhed and ahhed.

~ by rodtrip on March 4, 2007.